


Neliapila

by uumuu



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Femslashex Treat, Healers, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 07:16:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5038927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uumuu/pseuds/uumuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ioreth and her lover, at two very different moments in their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Neliapila

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elleth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleth/gifts).



> Thanks to amyfortuna for beta reading.

“Ioreth!”

The call was sudden, the voice loud and cheery. Ioreth looked up, raising her right hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun, but careful not to let her dirt-stained fingers touch her headdress. She looked up just in time to see her friend Mellessil wave at her from the top of the wall enclosing the medicinal herb garden, and disappear.

Moments later, Mellessil was standing next to her, on one of the narrow pathways which cut through the several plots overflowing with plants.

“How did you know I was here?” Ioreth asked, selecting leaves from the king of bitters plant, and putting them in the wicker basket standing on the ground at her side.

Mellessil laughed. “How!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “I'm sure people could hear you prattle from the very first circle! Who were you talking to?”

“The herb-master,” Ioreth said, a little abashed. Her manner of speaking had soon become well-known in the town, but she couldn't help her liveliness and enthusiasm, especially when talking about herbs or any other form of plant-lore. She peeked up at Mellessil. “Your headdress is sloppy. Your hair is sticking out,” she chided, a little too gravely, “you know it's important to be dressed properly. It's the _most_ important rule for those who serve in the Houses of Healing, every child in town knows that. What if -”

“There are no contagious patients here – or in the Houses of Healing right now for that matter,” Mellessil said.

“Still, you cannot be negligent about your personal appearance and hygiene, under any circumstances. Becoming a nurse comes with responsibilities.”

Mellessil held up her hands in defeat, before Ioreth could launch into a full-fledged rant. She straightened her low stiff cap, and tucked her hair back inside her headscarf. Then she watched her friend in silence for a while, rolling back and forth on the balls of her feet. 

“What are you doing?”

Ioreth lifted a perplexed eyebrow at her. “Picking herbs.”

“I meant...why are you picking herbs?”

“To make medicines, obviously. _You_ should be practicing, too.”

Mellessil, who was three years younger than her, was still an apprentice. Ioreth had already been appointed a nurse. She aimed at becoming the head of them, helped in that by the fact that she loved herbs, and plants in general. Her interest had been nurtured from an early age, thanks to her father's teachings, and all the spare hours he had spent taking her and her sisters through the flourishing pastures of Imloth Melui. 

“Can I come to your room at sundown?” Mellessil asked, cutting through Ioreth's memories. She crouched down next to her, though a little bit too fast. She nearly lost her balance, earning a reproachful look from Ioreth, but managed to avoid falling among the plants, and hugged her knees with her arms. She leant in, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I have some _special_ herbs.”

Ioreth blushed more deeply than before, her cheeks tinging a bright rosy pink in sharp contrast to her pristine white headscarf. “Those are forbidden, and for a good reason.”

“They are if used to coerce the unwilling. Not if you want to enhance the pleasure of the willing,” Mellessil said in a mock-lecturing tone, lifting the index finger of her right hand, before trailing it along Ioreth's cheek.

Ioreth didn't recoil from the touch. 

“Please?” Mellessil insisted. “If you don't have any patients to tend to, that is.”

“Fine,” Ioreth gruffly said, but she couldn't suppress a small smile.

Mellessil smiled from ear to ear, and kissed her cheek.

*

Well over half a century later, Mellessil found Ioreth crouching in the same spot in the garden annexed to the Houses of Healing. Most of the town had been reduced to heap of rubble. Corpses still had to be recovered from the debris, and the wounded kept dying in the Houses of Healing. But the war was won and the King was back. 

All would be restored to how it had been that day so many years before, perhaps be even better. Mellessil hadn't believed it at first – it seemed too good to be true. Being still alive felt like a dream. 

Ioreth looked up, and if age and care had wrinkled her face, they hadn't dampened her enthusiasm, and her confidence. 

“Hearten up, Mellessil. We have made it through,” she said.

Mellessil's lips twitched. She was overcome by such emotion that she felt her eyes water. “Yes...we did.”

“And it is a better world we will bequeath to younger folk.”

 _'Those who survive'_ , Mellessil thought. She didn't say it out loud, because she knew what Ioreth would have replied. They were doing all they could to save as many as was possible. The herb garden was almost empty, and they could only scrape in the dirt for the the leftover bit of a root or a few shrivelled leaves. 

Ioreth stood up, shaking the dirt off her dress. She turned to Mellessil, and hugged her. 

For a while they stood like that, basking in a closeness of many years they had had no time to relish in the past few weeks. 

“We did...we survived,” Mellessil finally said, pulling back. She placed a chaste kiss on Ioreth's lips, then looked at her face and her headscarf, which was dirtied and torn in places. “But all ancient Kings could have come back...I would have believed none of it, if I had not heard your prattle.”

**Author's Note:**

> Neliapila is Finnish for four-leafed clover.


End file.
